


Pursuit Predator

by Cryo_Bucky, Lasenby_Heathcote



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Choking, Competence Kink, Identity Porn, M/M, Missing Scenes, Mutual Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-03 23:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14007561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryo_Bucky/pseuds/Cryo_Bucky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote/pseuds/Lasenby_Heathcote
Summary: Pursuit Predation: a form of predation in which predators give chase to fleeing prey. The chase can be initiated either by the predator or by the prey, should the prey be alerted to a predator's presence and attempt to flee before the predator gives chase.Steve is Done, and also maybe a little attracted to the Winter Soldier. Maybe a lot.





	Pursuit Predator

**Author's Note:**

> Includes art by the amazing and talented Lasenby_Heathcote at the end! 
> 
> Thank you to all the people who helped me create this! This fic had no grandiose plans to be anything, it was really just Steve having the hots for the Winter Soldier. Thank you to NurseDarry and Sparkly_Butthole for your beta-ing to help me whip this fic into shape, and thanks to Lasenby_Heathcote for the amazing art!  
> Also thank you to the lovely Kink Bang mods for putting all this together, you guys are amazing!

“They call him the Winter Soldier.” Natasha’s tone was even but her eyes were still wide - was she scared? “He's been credited with more than two dozen kill missions in the last _fifty_ years.” 

Steve frowned at her, his mind reeling. There was just no way it could be real. He was tired of being lied to, and this seemed like another in a long string- but he'd seen the man, chased him through the building and across the roof, felt the strength he'd used to throw Steve’s shield back at him. “So he's a ghost story.” His tone was hard, but he was ti done. He had just fought a jet single-handedly and was not in the mood for Nat’s half-truths. 

Natasha's story about Odessa did not convince him the way she was probably hoping it would. To be honest, Steve was tired, tired and angry, and it looked like he wasn't going to get much of a rest. His ribs ached from landing on his shield, and he still felt phantom tingles of electricity under his skin from the stun batons. 

As if jumping out of an elevator, and falling...a lot of stories wasn’t enough, Steve's day had not improved. He was never letting Natasha dress him again, for one thing; those shoes were stupid, and who invented glasses that were plain glass? Plus the whole Strike-trying-to-kill-them thing, and then having to drive to Jersey of all places. By the time they got to Zola, fucking _Zola_ , Steve was done. He would tear the whole thing down by hand if he had to. SHIELD, HYDRA, all of it. He wasn't afraid of their Soldier. 

Almost getting blown up with a SHIELD missile was just the icing on the cake. 

 

 

“I'm sorry to do this, Sam.” Steve felt like he was about to start wobbling on his feet, but that didn't seem to be enough to stop Sam from nudging him toward the bathroom. Today had been shit, and a hot shower sounded like a blessing. Really Natasha had gotten the worst of it, but Sam seemed eager enough to check on her. Steve just hoped that he’d managed to shield her well enough from the falling debris. 

Steve sagged against the tile of Sam’s shower. His shoulder still ached something fierce from the I-beam, and he stumbled a bit pulling his jeans off, leaning heavily against the door. It took a few moments of psyching himself up before he could step into the water, taking a few sharp breaths as he was forced to focus the sensation of his muscles knitting back together under his skin. Surviving an explosion wasn’t anything new to him, but it still hurt like a bitch. The water stung against the bruises, running muddy and brown past his feet as it washed away the dust. His head was still spinning in a hundred different ways, and he felt nauseous, closing his eyes tightly and trying to catch his breath. 

After all this time, he’d ended up working for them, fallen in line to HYDRA without even knowing. He’d been such an idiot. He bumped his hand through the collection of bottles in Sam’s shower rack, squinting at them as his preoccupied brain refused to work with him. Mechanically, he scrubbed shampoo into his hair, the chemical scent of green apple - of all things - filling his nose. Why was he not surprised. 

The water was nearly burning, and it felt great. He could feel his tense muscles relax, exhaustion and soreness seeping him as they did, the strange taut feeling of new skin stretching as he moved. The healing factor seemed like something he would never be used to, always weirded out by muscle and bone shifting its way back into place. His back still ached from one of Rumlow’s particularly well-placed shocks, right against his kidneys and the edge of his spine. It wasn’t until he heard a _pop_ that he realized he was gripping the bottle in his hand a little too tightly, mashed plastic and a handful of soap leaking down his arm. 

“Shit.” He pressed his forehead against the tiles again. 

Maybe he could just stand in here forever, hide in this warm little place that smelled good and avoid this whole mess. _His_ mess that he hadn’t finished before his time in the ice, or so it seemed. 

It was only a matter of time before they sent the Soldier after them. He could feel it like an itch at the back of his mind. That man was dangerous - if even Natasha was scared of him he was certainly a force to be reckoned with. 

Steve turned into the spray, broad shoulders rolling as he tried to work the last of the kinks out of his back. If it came to a fight, and it surely would, he needed to be ready. Someone that was comparable to him in speed and strength working as an assassin was no one to disregard. In the dark, there hadn’t been much Steve could make out of the man, but it had been enough.

Steve was suddenly struck with the phantom sensation of cold metal closing around his throat, pinned down by powerful thighs as his nose filled with the heady scent of all that leather. His cock twitched, perking up a little and he popped his eyes open. _Oh, that’s how it is._ It had been nothing more than a moment on the roof, fueled by adrenaline from smashing through the office, but having an impeccable memory had to be good for something. His mind seemed more than willing to provide him with details, or fantasies. 

Staring down at himself, he couldn’t help but frown. Really? Of all people? The Winter Soldier? _Boy, that probably said a lot about him._

He considered just ignoring it, but his mind was buzzing so loud, he could really use a break. The water was still pleasantly hot and he leaned into it as he reached down to touch himself. 

Everything he knew of the Soldier was seared into his mind, his brain dredging up the tiniest details he’d caught in the half-light of the roof. He didn’t have much to go on, had only seen a flash of the man, but he had a feeling that was more than most people saw. 

Sinking his teeth into his lip to keep quiet, Steve let his brain resume whatever train of thought it had been heading down. The sharp zing of that arm calibrating, turning to grab him tighter. Would the plates be smooth or would they pinch? He could imagine sinking his fingers into the man’s long hair, maybe giving it a tug just the right side of too hard. Fuck, he didn’t even know what the man looked like; he’d been covered from head to toe in leather and metal, but Steve’s fantasy of him made it more of a fight than fucking. The thought of someone who could wrestle with him and win, be his equal and make him take it without question, _fuck_ , it made his dick throb in his hands. He bit back a gasp, hunching his shoulders slightly and steadying himself with his arm against the wall of the shower. 

If this wasn’t the strangest thing he’d gotten off to, it was up there. He couldn’t help but whine softly as his hand moved faster, pleasure chasing up and down his spine. The imaginary sensation of hot breath against his neck made goosebumps jump to his skin and he hastily silenced another sound by pressing his face into his arm. His mind reeled as he came, sagging against the wall as the water washed away the puddle of white that dripped down his fist. _Fuck,_ he felt a little weak in the knees, his mind still filled with thoughts of leather and metal and hot skin. 

“Well that’s something…” he murmured against his bicep once he’d caught his breath. Natasha would kill him, rightfully so, if he used all the hot water. Time to get out. 

Once he was clean and dry he felt a thousand times better, more clear-headed but no less emotionally drained. He would have to face off against the Winter Soldier, it was only a matter of time. Could he win? Could he do it without popping a boner? Either way he was probably going to die, if not from this, then probably from some SHIELD/HYDRA bullshit. Steve found it didn’t bother him as much as it should have. This wasn’t even the first time this year he’d faced almost certain death. 

He could tell how upset Natasha was, once she too finished with her shower, and he wanted to be a supportive friend. She was one of only a few people who treated him like a real human, didn't tiptoe around him, even if her concern manifested itself in strange ways. He should maybe tell her to back off trying to find him a date, but it was a fun game. 

“Tell me the truth...would you trust me to return the favor?” Natasha was leaning toward him, her expression earnest. “If things were reversed…” 

Steve gave her a smile, pleased to have found someone as kind as her hidden under her hardened exterior. “I would now. We’ll get this figured out, Natasha.” He looked down, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And I’m always honest.” 

Sam popped in, leaning against the doorframe. “I made breakfast. If you guys eat that sort of thing.” 

Steve opened his mouth to refuse but his stomach growled plaintively and Natasha gave him a look. “Yeah Sam, I’d love some breakfast.” His sheepish smile returned. 

They hashed out a plan over some frankly amazing pancakes, Steve trying to resist the urge to shove bacon into his mouth as fast as possible. 

“I can't ask you to do this Sam, it's too much.” Steve looked down again at the file in his hands, chewing at his lip. “You got out for a good reason.” 

“Dude, Captain America needs my help, there's no better reason to get back in.” Sam was beaming, clearly more than a little excited at the prospect. They really were similar, not happy unless they had a goal. 

Steve exchanged a look with Natasha and flipped through the file again. “Where can we get a hold of some of these?”

“Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and who knows what else.” 

Steve grinned, dropping the file onto the table. “Shouldn't be a problem.” 

Both Natasha and Sam gave him equally outraged looks when he told them he wasn't coming with them to Fort Meade. 

“Steve, we can't just let you go on your own, not with so many people looking for you.” Sam looked pleadingly at Natasha, like she would pull some sort of insight to make Steve stay. “Whatever it is, we can go together.” 

Steve was already shaking his head. “No, Sam, it's really okay. You guys can handle it without me, and I’ll meet up with you once you get back from Maryland.” He didn't want to go into the specifics of his plan. But surely, or at least if they were smart, HYDRA already had the Winter Soldier sniffing at their heels, and he needed to know a few things. 

“You’re crazy.” Natasha tipped her head a little, her hair brushing her shoulders as she squinted at him. “But I don’t suppose we can convince you.” 

“Nope.” Steve settled his hands on his hips, hoping he didn’t look smug. Sam looked like he wanted to hit Steve with something.

After begrudgingly saying their goodbyes, and earning an intense look from Natasha, Steve jogged down the road far enough to wire the motorcycle he had seen on his way up to Sam’s door. He had a few people to pay back once this was all over. It never sat well to steal, even if it was more borrowing - he needed it, and he had every intention of bringing it back. 

 

 

Steve pushed the door to his apartment open. Nothing had moved since that first night. It seemed like it had been forever, but it had been what? One day? A day and a half? Even though everything seemed the same as he had left it, he knew people had been here, techs to collect evidence, and there was still police tape hanging from his door frame. The dull smell of dried blood accompanied the more familiar ones of his apartment. Fury hadn’t deserved any of it. No matter what his involvement may have been. 

His skin prickled with the feeling of being watched, and he looked around, adrenaline making his muscles tight. He hadn't been wrong. There was definitely someone watching him. But maybe the tingle under his skin wasn't all adrenaline. He thought back to his shower at Sam’s, the same heat licking its way up his spine. 

As he turned slowly, trying to find the most defensible position, Steve’s thoughts ran at a million miles a second. He wasn't stupid, but if he could… Well maybe he was stupid. What exactly was his plan here? If the Soldier was smart he would just snipe Steve from outside, like he had Fury. He shivered at the memory. 

Steve swallowed thickly, straightening his shoulders before calling out into the empty apartment: “I know you're here. Just come out and face me like a man.” His voice echoed a little in the room, gaze finally settling on the neat grouping of exit holes in the far wall of his living room. Competency. 

The air thickened, and even without hearing a sound Steve knew he was no longer alone.

The Winter Soldier was standing in his living room as if he'd appeared from under the floorboards. His stance was loose but predatory - a viper coiled to strike; it should have intimidated Steve but it lit him up inside. 

“They sent you to kill me.” It wasn't a question, both of them knew the answer, “So why haven't you?” 

The Soldier was covered from head to toe, smooth leather begging to be yanked on and the lenses of his goggles flashed red when he shifted. “You still have six hours.” His voice wasn’t at all what Steve expected, rich but rough around the edge, like maybe he spent a lot of time screaming... Okay, he didn’t really want to think about that. 

Finally Steve’s brain processed the Soldier’s words and he stared. “Six hours until what?” His mind reeled, did they have such a short window? Had they missed something? 

“I was given ten hours to confirm death. Once my mission is over I will be returned to stasis.” The Soldier’s voice was strange, flat, clearly schooled into no discernible inflection, but there was something about him that drew Stew in like a moth to a flame. 

Stasis? Steve couldn't wrap his brain around it, “You're awful chatty for a super-spy,” Steve said. He wasn’t sure what made him want to talk to the man, he was a HYDRA assassin, he should have been everything that Steve hated. But there was something... 

“I am not a spy. I am a weapon. And it does not matter, you will be dead in less than six hours- both you and the Widow.” 

Steve took a step closer and the Soldier tensed, leather squeaking and metal catching on the light through the window. God, Steve could already feel his dick twitching. What was his problem? Why did it seem poetic that he die at the hands of this man because he couldn’t stop thinking with his dick. 

There was something electric between them, making the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. 

“You’re letting me live to stay away from them? I thought you worked for them,” Steve said as he took another step forward. The Soldier, lightning quick, pulled a knife from a sheath at the small of his back, the wicked blade flashing in the light. 

The Soldier looked strange in daylight, like a shadow that had gotten lost, maybe had forgotten to disappear when the sun had come out. He looked more like a man, less like a monster, despite his attire. He seemed to suck away the light around him, drawing Steve’s gaze and holding it fast. 

Steve put his hands up. “You haven’t killed me yet, I’m not gonna start it.” 

“You’re my mission,” the Soldier murmured, shaking his head like a dog would flick water from its ears. “Priority level, confirm death in ten hours.” He didn’t seem to be talking to Steve anymore, his voice sounding far away. 

Before Steve could take another breath, the Soldier was on him, slamming him into the wall and pinning him with that knife against his throat. 

“You’re my mission,” the Soldier hissed. The sting of metal just breaking the skin of his throat made Steve shake. 

_Shit, shit._ Whoever this man was, he was clearly unhinged. What exactly had been his plan here? 

But there was something... 

The Soldier hadn’t released him, but Steve could hear him breathing hard under his mask, his goggles almost glowing when they caught the light. “I know you,” the Soldier whispered. 

The words were so quiet that Steve almost didn’t hear them, but a shiver passed through him when they registered. 

The Soldier tipped his head in a strange motion, almost as if he were going to kiss Steve, before he remembered himself and stepped back. Steve swayed after him. He shouldn’t be standing here. He should take the Soldier out when he had an opening, before there were other people to be collateral damage.

He tried to take a step to the side, give himself a bit more of an edge, but the Soldier snapped back to attention, grabbing him and spinning him around before shoving him back into the wall. Steve wheezed, his shoulder protesting as the Soldier bent his arm back at a painful angle. 

“I know you,” the Soldier hissed against the back of his neck. “You’re my mission, but I was not told how to kill you.” 

Steve wrenched his other arm up, briefly loosening the Soldier’s hold and allowing him to twist enough to leave him with his back against the wall once more. But that metal hand came up with tighten around his throat, and Steve wheezed for real, hands coming up to scrabble ineffectively against the iron grip. 

Hopefully his tombstone wouldn’t read “Died trying to flirt with an expert assassin.” He had never been very successful at that - flirting _or_ avoiding dangerous situations. 

It was Steve’s turn to hiss when the tip of that knife dug into his collarbone, the Soldier slicing cleanly through his shirt and leaving a tiny red welt in the wake of the knife. The metal hand around his throat wasn’t so tight he couldn’t breathe, but it was enough to make spots dance at the edge of Steve’s vision, and his arms go weak. 

“Pretty…” There was a drawl crawling into the Soldier’s voice that made Steve ache in an unexpected way. Shit, this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To be at the Soldier’s mercy. Well, here he was. The tatters of his shirt fluttered to the floor, and the cooler air between them made him shiver.

The Soldier’s grip loosened a little more and Steve took in a small breath, managing to swallow. “HYDRA doesn’t let you out much, huh?” He had been going for casual, but his voice was already wrecked. The red welt from the knife had already disappeared, and Steve had to admit he missed it. 

“Fuck HYDRA,” the Soldier snarled, his grip tightening. Ah, those words were music to Steve’s ears. 

Steve twisted, rolling against the Soldier’s body in one long movement. 

The Soldier pushed against him, shoving one of his legs between Steve’s thighs to grind their hips together. Steve felt what little breath he still had leave him in a rush. Oh yeah, _fuck yeah._

The Soldier didn’t say anything more as he started to rub sinuously against Steve, his grip around Steve’s throat disappearing until his hand was simply resting there. Steve gulped in air, his head swimming and pleasure searing through him as his body tried to recover. Fuck, there had to be a wire crossed somewhere in him, because he was already rock hard in his pants. 

Once he’d gotten a little more air, Steve’s fingers dove for the Soldier’s belt, ignoring the warning noise and the way the man tensed, only to relax when he realized that Steve was undoing the fasteners of his pants. 

“You can stab me later, yeah?” Steve’s voice was still wrecked, but the Soldier heard him nonetheless, giving a nearly imperceptible nod as Steve’s fingers wormed their way into his pants to pull out his dick. “HYDRA too cheap for underwear?” Steve almost thought he heard the Soldier huff out a laugh. 

The Soldier’s other hand had come up to pet Steve’s side, the smooth leather of his gloves squeaking over Steve’s skin. Steve panted, looking down their bodies to marvel at the Soldier’s thick cock. God damn. Clearly the metal arm wasn’t the only thing he could use as a club in a fight. It was already wet at the tip, foreskin pulled back from the cherry-pink head. The Soldier didn’t give him long to look, making an impatient noise and flexing his thighs. 

After struggling through undoing his own pants Steve brought their dicks together in his hand, hissing out a pleasurable noise when the Soldier snapped his hips forward. Steve’s head thunked back against the wall as he soaked up the satisfaction of getting exactly what he wanted. 

The Soldier seemed happy to help Steve along with the filthy roll of his hips, though the only noise he made was the heavy breaths behind his mask. His goggles caught the light when he dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder, his hair surprisingly soft as it brushed against Steve’s neck. Tentatively Steve brought his hand up to pet the Soldier’s hair, but the hand around his throat dug into his skin once more, and the other one grabbed his wrist, pinning it to the wall. Okay, no petting. Got it. 

Steve twisted his thumb over the weeping head of the Soldier’s cock on his next stroke, and man tensed like a taut bowstring, the tiniest whine leaving his throat. 

Steve grinned, sharp and lopsided as he repeated the action. “C’mon, give it to me.” Steve’s voice was still wrecked, his whole body tingling with pleasure as the Soldier snapped his hips up into Steve’s hand. 

Steve gasped sharply at the feeling of warm spunk splashing his abs and coating his hand. Shit, even as he shook his way through his orgasm the Soldier was silent, quaking hard enough to rattle Steve’s teeth but never making a sound. The Soldier dug his fingers once more into Steve’s throat, making him wheeze and tighten his grip on both of them. 

“Come.” The Soldier’s voice was practically a growl, barely a rumble against Steve’s skin, but Steve found himself obeying, throwing his head back with a shout, as pleasure raced down his spine, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. 

By the time Steve had caught his breath he realized that he was alone, cold air rushing up to meet him as he tried to focus on the room around him, Well...that could have gone better. He slid down the wall, sticky and drained. That may have been one of the stupider things he had done this week, but he didn’t die, so it could have been worse. The feeling of come drying on his skin was unpleasant, and he found himself blushing of all things, his ears burning. He had just showered, maybe he could get it off. 

The answer was no, he could not get it off. And water didn’t help. He scrubbed futility at his skin until he deemed himself clean enough. He would just have to hope that he didn’t reek of sex. He hadn’t gotten any information out of the Soldier, but he didn’t die. Besides, he had to meet back up with Sam and Natasha. 

He mulled over the events that hadn’t included his dick as he climbed back onto the borrowed motorcycle, trying to put together any information from what the Soldier had said to him. 

Six hours. What could they manage in six hours? 

They would have to find out. 

 

 

Sam and Natasha were blissfully kind enough not to badger him when they picked him up back at Sam’s. It had been a risk the whole way there and back, but a motorcycle helmet and some ingenuity was what Steve had been relying on through bigger things than this. They’d successfully gotten Sam his wings, and now they just had to pick up Sitwell. 

Steve was still pleased with how easy it had been to kidnap such a high profile man from SHIELD. Natasha’s stunt with the laser pointer had been inspired, but honestly part of him was wishing he really had been able to throw Sitwell off that building - as satisfying as it was to hear him scream before Sam caught him. Nice going, Natasha. 

“We’ll use him to bypass the launch codes and access the ships directly.” Steve could feel Natasha’s hair brushing his shoulder as she peeked over the back of the seat between them. Sam had somehow talked his way into driving, giving Steve some half-baked answer about knowing his way better around DC. Which Steve had to admit was true. 

“That is a terrible, _terrible_ idea.” Sitwell opened his mouth to say something further but a loud thunk cut him off. By the time that they had all looked up, a familiar metal arm had smashed through the window and tossed Sitwell out into traffic like a ragdoll. Great. 

Natasha crawled into his lap and Steve slammed the car into park, watching as the Soldier flew a surprising distance before sliding to a stop whilst smoothly holstering his gun. Damn that was something. Natasha gave him a sharp look and he stared pointedly past her. Not the time, not the time. 

By the time they’d recovered enough for Natasha to grab her gun the Humvee smashed into the back of their Chevy and the Soldier was already on them again, this time reaching through the windshield and taking the entire steering wheel. 

“Shit!” Sam looked after the wheel, and then at Steve, and then back up at the wheel. Yeah, that happened sometimes. 

“Hold on!” Steve knew the car was going over, especially without a wheel to guide it. He grabbed Natasha and slung his arm as best he could around Sam before throwing them all out onto the asphalt. No matter how many times he landed on his shield it never felt great. 

Getting blown off an overpass sucked too, in case anyone was keeping track. Just how many guns had these guys brought with them? Steve rushed the end of the bus, diving out to grab his shield under a hail of bullets. Cramming himself behind it had become second nature, and he couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied as the bullets ricochet back into their own guys. It didn’t matter though; they would lose if he couldn’t stop the Soldier. Where were they? 

An explosion shook the cars next to him and he turned, watching Natasha hare off and the Soldier stalk after her. The man really was a force to be reckoned with, and as much as Steve admired Natasha, she looked like she could use some help. 

Steve doubled his pace when a shot rang out, barely bringing up his shield in time to block the punch from the Soldier. It made his shield ring like a bell, the shock vibrating through his arms even with the vibranium. Shit, that was a solid punch.

Before he realized it, Steve was picking himself up off the ground, making sure the shield was covering him as he dodged another flurry of bullets. Three guns down and two knives, how many weapons did this guy carry? 

The Soldier grabbed him, twisting Steve, and flipping him over his shoulder as easy as anything, before glaring coolly at him over the edge of his own shield. Aw _hell no._

No sooner had the thought left Steve’s mind than said shield was winging toward him, and only a clumsy dodge left it buried halfway into the van behind him instead of cutting him in half. 

Hand-to-hand then. 

It was no exaggeration to say that Steve was one of the best trained hand-to-hand combatants in the world, and the Soldier kept up with him blow for blow. Every punch felt like being hit with a freight train, and no matter what Steve did to throw him off, the Soldier just kept coming - insatiable and determined. 

After a few more blows Steve was able to stagger the Soldier enough to wrench his shield out of the van, catching the edge of it in the ridge of the Soldier’s metal elbow and hitting him solidly in the face. Grabbing him and heaving him away left Steve enough time to turn around and prepare for the next onslaught. 

The Soldier’s mask had come away. It clattered to the ground and revealed a face that Steve would have never in his wildest dreams expected to see again. One he’d seen shrinking into the distance from the side of a train.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice came out small, his heart aching, and confusion twisting his expression as he lowered his shield. When Steve didn't move the Soldier's expression clouded, his eyes shifting as if trying to figure out his next move. 

The Soldier straightened his back, leveling Steve with a cold gaze. “Who the hell is Bucky?” His voice was rough, but not with disuse, his eyes hard and clear as he glared at Steve.

Well. That was something.

[](https://i.imgur.com/8MhQlVO.jpg)  


[](https://i.imgur.com/UERM5AT.jpg)  


[](https://i.imgur.com/z93n7eY.jpg)  



End file.
